Rima was many things.
For one she was annoying. Annoying not like a child but more like a blackmailing serial killer who knew when to hit you and when. But she was also irritating and knew how to get on my nerves.
She was manipulative. Much like a serial killer or a deranged psychopath, yet she somehow managed to stay sane and make me do her math homework.
She was fragile. She could easily be hurt by the even the subtlest mention of her parents or of love.
She was beautiful. She may have been annoying and manipulative and on the rare occasion mean, but she was still breathtaking. Especially the way the light would hit her golden eyes and the way her curly blond hair would flow down her back like a golden waterfall.
But above all, Rima was mine.
And as I tucked a strand of my violet hair behind my ear and tightly clutched the tiny velvet box the only thing on my mind was asking her to be mine.
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